The year was 1359 Dalereckoning, Year of the Serpent. Toril was still reeling from the Year of Shadows and all the chaos and change it brought about. Old gods died and new ones ascended to replace them. Among the divine casualties was Mystra, Goddess of Magic. The human mage Midnight rose to take her mantle, but this event caused some unrest among the magocracy of Halruaa.

Located in southern Faerun, Halruaa is no place to grow up without a proclivity to magic. Alas, the poor souls chronicled here were such luckless folk...

Stump, a squalid village in the Akhlaur Swamp southeast of the West Wall, was the only home our restless adventurers had, until this point, ever known. A hard existence full of back breaking work, Stump was one of many such communities that existed to provide fish and lumber for the arcane overlords who ruled Halruaa from their tall towers in distant shining cities. These ruling elite could be spotted on rare occasions soaring far overhead in their magical skyships, sailing the blue skies with nary a glance at the less fortunate souls scratching out a meager existence far below.

The fish were pulled from the Ghalagar River which flowed down from the mighty Lhairghals mountains. The lumber was harvested from the trees growing in the diabolical swamp. Both practices were frequently deadly what with all the monsters and humanoids calling Akhlaur Swamp home. But even these dangers paled in comparison to the horrors the locals whispered about that dwelt in the fetid swamp far from any settlement. Legend held that at the black heart of Akhlaur lay an ancient city destroyed by the gods for growing too decadent, and some believe too powerful. Many foolish folk struck out in search of the ruins never to be seen or heard from again.

It was from this time and place our party formed, the hand of fate playing no small part in its humble origins. These stalwart heroes would rise from this insignificant village and.... well the rest, as they say, is history...